Twilight Zanpakuto
by Typo Goblin
Summary: A tale of an up and coming Taichou-hopeful who suddenly disappears without a trace. An older story in a series of several that I wrote quite a while ago. *I do not own Bleach*
1. Twilight Zanpakuto

...Just not proper.

...Who're you kidding?

...Katsumi, you're insane...

How many days had she had the same conversation with herself? Letting out a strained sigh, she shifted her weight, moving her chin into the palm of her and rested her elbow on her knee as she sat cross legged in the grass. The great willow above gave her shade, but still she squinted against the afternoon light. Dark lashes fanned down, hiding her light blue eyes.

"This is insane." She grumbled to herself, eyes flashing up once more. They came to rest on the object of her inner turmoil. "You were both accepted to the same academy, nobility has nothing to do with it here..."

With that, she pushed herself up off the grass, the blades making barely any sound as they were crushed beneath her bare feet. The young man, the one she had been debating about, was sitting alone on a small boulder, propped back against his hands with his long legs lazily stretched out in front of him.

Now, for the right thing to...."Do you dye your hair?"...say. Mentally, she smacked herself. His head turned slowly and for a moment she was dumbfounded when the depthless black eyes of Ukitake Juushiro met hers. With a short burst of air, the choppy bangs that fell over his eyes flew up, then settled to one side. "Well, what I meant to say, was that I liked it and hoped it was natural." She said, a bit quicker than she would have liked.

Ukitake's slim eyebrow rose ever so slightly. "No, I don't dye it. It has been this way for years." He said simply, turning away from her again, offering up his back. "I have to admit, I think you would look better if you grew out yours. The choppy, short cropped look isn't as flattering."

Katsumi's own eyes widened slightly. If he had paid enough attention to her to come up with an opinion like that, how had she not noticed? Despite her wondering, she smiled.

"I'll keep that in mind." She promised.

Turning once more, he pushed himself up off the rock to face her. "Onishi? Yes?" He asked, clasping his hands behind his back. The rough fabric of his uniform rustled softly, barely noticeable.

With a short nod, she bent at the waist, back stiff, praying that she was doing it properly and not making a fool of herself. As she straightened she found his eyes again. "Onishi Katsumi." She finished with a warm smile that mirrored his own.

"Oh yes, the first non-noble to enter the Shinigami Academy." Standing a bit over six feet tall, Katsumi found she had to look up at him. "I apologize for not introducing myself earlier. I am Ukitake Juushiro."

"I know." She said quickly, far too quickly. Her cheeks burned with flush, but lessened at his carefree laugh. "I'm sorry...I.."

"No, no..." He interrupted, waving a hand. "I should have believed them when they told me I had an admirer."

Was she on fire? It certainly felt like it. With an inward groan, she smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand, physically. "I'm that obvious?" She groaned, eyes closed tightly as she shook her head.

Her eyes flew open, head jerking up at the feel of his fingers on her wrist. He had artists fingers, not fighters, long and slim. She couldn't help but notice that his skin was chilled as his fingers curled around her wrist and drew it toward him, his free hand enveloping her own. Slightly startled, Katsumi's eyes found his again.

"Please don't do that, you'll hurt yourself." He said softly, releasing her hand with a smile. All Katsumi could do was frown. Without thinking, her hand shot out to capture his before it settled at his side again.

"Ukitake, you're hands are like ice.." She said, resting his fingers between her palms to warm them.

With a delicate shrug of his shoulder, he glanced somewhere off to the side. "They often are." Came his simple response. "You haven't heard of my failing?" He asked, the happy tone in his voice fading out.

Smiling to replace it, Katsumi gave a shrug of her own as she let his fingers slip from her hands. "Maybe I just don't care." With a glance down at his hand, Ukitake's smile returned.

"Please, Katsumi, you're going to miss your training. Your captain is waiting for you." Ukitake's voice was low, slightly raspy. It was the last quality that urged Katsumi to get up. Pouring a cup of tea, she returned to the side of his bed, offering it to him.

"You should know by now, I just don't care." With her chin raised like that, Ukitake knew better than to argue or try to persuade her. With his sigh of defeat, he sipped the tea and set it aside. Katsumi grinned, victory belonged to her. Reaching up, his chilled fingers brushed against her temple, pushing aside her hair to reveal her eyes. As she'd said, she'd kept his comment in mind, her hair now much longer than it had been in academy, falling to the middle of her back in soft curls. The brown tresses were much more flattering on her. "Please, try and sleep. You'll feel better when you do." Katsumi urged.

Closing his eyes, he nodded. His hand slipped to the bed beside him, only to be caught up between her own, trying to bring warmth back into the slim fingers. The next words out of his lips startled her, his hand dropping to the bed anyway.

"Marry me, Onishi Katsumi." It was a statement, not a question.

"Ukitake..." She lost her train of thought when he opened his eyes again. The black eyes were such a brilliant contrast to his stark white hair. A beautiful contrast. Shoulders slumped, she looked down at his hand. "I don't think it would look right for a lieutenant to marry a third seat, especially coming from the same squad." She admitted.

"Is that the only reason you say no? The only reason you aren't a vice is that you requested the same squad as me." He faltered a moment, then let out a sigh. "Everyone knows that once we've finished our training, we'll become Captains...when that day comes, Katsumi, you will say yes to me." He promised, the slightest hint of a smile on his pale lips.

Prompted by his, Katsumi smiled herself. "Of course I will." She promised in return.

After a few moments, Ukitake spoke up again. "Does that mean you'll go to your training now?"

Ukitake watched Katsumi mingle with the wedding guests. Turns out his vice had gone and taken his idea, marrying before Ukitake had a chance to. To him, Katsumi was more beautiful than the bride, a light green kimono bringing out the highlights in her brown hair. It fell below her waist now, flowers strung in the curls to match those on the fabric of her kimono. The outfit was much more festive than his Captain's uniform. Walking over, he took her arm gently, leaning down the few inches to bring his lips to her ear.

"I spoke with Yamamoto today." He informed her softly. His warm breath washed over her skin, making the strands of hair that fell beside her face flutter before she turned her head to look at him.

"Oh, is that so?" She asked with a playful grin.

"It is. He said that he expects you to reach Bankai within the month, your position as Captain of the third squad is prepared. So now, you have a question to answer, Vice Onishi."

Katsumi turned to face him. "Oh yes, that one." With a finger on her chin, she made it appear as if she were deep in thought. "Well, you did ask again before you said you would, but I suppose my answer would not be changed by such an oversight. Yes, I will."

For the first time in days, Ukitake was able to fill his lungs with a deep pull of fresh air. Hands on the railing of the balcony, he looked out over the city. The day was bright, not a cloud in the flawless, blue sky. Not too far away, the sounds of battle rang out from the training grounds. Katsumi was there now, training with Yamamoto himself. She was so close, he knew it. Today she would return and tell him she'd finally done it.

A flash of light distracted him, drawing him from his thoughts. A brilliant blue pillar shot upward, merging with the sky flawlessly standing only a few moments before dissipating into thin air like so many snowflakes. The smile on his face faded. Kaien was at his side abruptly, following his Captain's gaze. "Was that from the..."

"Yes, it was." Ukitake cut off sharply, half way across the courtyard before Kaien could register his disappearance.

The training grounds had been thrown into disorder, the tall, sure form of Yamamoto surrounded by Shinigami of all ranks. The old man looked surprised, a look Ukitake had never seen on him before. Pushing his way through, he stood before the stunned Yamamoto. "Katsumi!" He demanded, black eyes searching the faces around him.

"Captain, you'll get sick again..." Kaien's sure voice spoke out, giving him something to hold onto. If he chose to take it.

"Katsumi!" He demanded again, this time forcing Yamamoto out of his stupor.

"Gone." His aged voice whispered out. "She's gone. Her bankai...it took her." He said, brows furrowed as he tried to understand himself.

Ukitake opened his mouth to speak again, but a fit of coughing had him doubled over, unable to let the words free. Kaien's arm slipped under his to support him and he shrugged it off, standing tall. "Took her where?" He asked, forcing his tone to remain calm, though it was hardly how he felt. "What do you mean, 'gone'?"

Yamamoto just shook his head. "I do not know."

Sitting beneath the willow at the academy, Ukitake took a few moments to rest. He'd been asked to give a demonstration to the students and since he'd been feeling well enough to be up and about, he had accepted the invitation. Now, he felt out of breath and his lungs burned. His hands were cold too, keeping them clasped together for warmth. How many years had it been? He wondered silently, eyes closed in reflection. How long since she has warmed them for you? He tried to do the math quickly, counting the years since he'd lost Kaien, then tracking backwards. How long had Kaien been with him after her disappearance? He could hardly remember anymore, the first few since that day a blur.

His life was in order now, as much as it could be. He was still without a vice, the next seats constantly fighting for his approval, hoping to take Kaien's place. Although many might have found it annoying, it brought life to his days, especially those he spent in bed, or locked away to keep people from seeing his weakness.

Even he had to admit to himself that he'd grown stronger since she'd gone. He'd learned which days his body would allow him to train, and on those days when it was time to quit. He hadn't grown any taller, though his hair was longer now, falling past his shoulders. His mind began to move to a mental exercise he found himself running through less often now. A picture of her appeared in his mind's eye, the morning she'd left to train with Yamamoto. It shifted then, hair growing, face changing ever so slightly, imagining what she might look like now. Every time he came up with a different face, still undeniably Katsumi.

"Captain Juushiro?" His eyes opened, blinking a few times before raising his head to look at the one addressing him. His white hair fell away, revealing a young woman, nearly out of the academy. "Are you feeling alright?" She asked gently, not wishing to invade his privacy in the matter of his illness. He gave her a reassuring smile and rose, towering over her.

"I feel fine, thank you, Amaya."

With a brisk nod, she turned on her heel to return to the main building, Ukitake following after a few moments. Just before entering, he glanced up to find Amaya facing him again, eyes wide. Her hand raised, one finger pointing behind him toward the city. "Captain.." Her voice was shaking and he turned quickly. Surely not a Hollow...

The brilliant blue column of light disappeared almost before he caught sight of it. His own eyes widened a degree, the image overlapping one in his memory. Before she could ask anything else, Amaya was left standing alone.

This day, the training grounds were empty when Ukitake flashed in. The speed of his Shunpo had greatly improved, bringing him from the academy to the grounds in an instant. At first, it didn't seem that anyone was there, though people were arriving from every direction, the first he noticed being Shunsui. Ukitake looked at the large man, but he simply shrugged his broad shoulders, the pink floral overcoat he wore fluttering in the breeze.

By the time his eyes scanned the arena once more, a small form lay crumpled in the center. Shunsui made it there before him. For such a lazy man, he could move when he wanted to. Nanao appeared where he had been, resting her hands on her knees to catch her breath. "What's wrong with you?!" She called out. The Captain ignored her, standing over Ukitake as he knelt down, picking up the small form of a woman, cradling her in his arms.

She was a complete mess, her vice uniform in shatters on her body. Smudges of dirt covered her arms and face, scratches and dried blood caking her skin. Her hair was matted and tangled, bits of nature sticking to the once beautifully, glossy strands. Her eyes fluttered open, light blue orbs staring up at him, taking a moment to focus. Deathly pale lips smiled up at him, a thin hand reaching up to stroke his hair, the strands slipping between her fingers.

"You have beautiful hair....do you dye it?" The voice that fell on his ears was barely recognizable. Raspy and weak, like dry leaves being crunched beneath a boot. He brought his hand to her cheek, making her eyes close a moment. "Your hands are still cold, Ukitake."

"You almost killed me, running out like that, you should be more..." Nanao was cut off by Shunsui's hand coming up abruptly. Glancing down, she frowned a bit, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose a bit more. She didn't recognize the woman, but she didn't have to. Onishi Katsumi.

Abruptly, Ukitake's head turned into the crook of his arm, blocking a cough that rose to his throat. Katsumi's eyes closed again, her form slumping against him. "Shunsui..." He said softly. Immediately, the man was beside him, lifting the pale form of Katsumi from him, turning and disappearing from sight, Ukitake following with Nanao close behind.

The next time she opened her eyes, the room came at her in an abrupt blur. Someone was sitting beside her, pale features and white hair recognizable even without further definition. The figure leaned closer and she felt cold fingers slip into her hand. "Katsumi..." The voice only confirmed it in her mind, that this was Ukitake. Even as she grew sure, his features became more visible to her, her eyes sharpening.

Tears immediately came to her eyes as she looked up at him. "You see me..." The pure disbelief in her tone made Ukitake start. He opened his mouth to say something, but her eyes left him, searching the room. "Shunsui...you touched me.."

"Huh?" Shunsui pushed himself up from leaning against the wall, raising the edge of the straw hat atop his head to look at her. "Yeah, of course." He shrugged, leaning back again.

"What are you talking about Katsumi?" Her eyes turned to Ukitake again.

"One day...no one could see me....touch me, hear me. I screamed my lungs out, and no one flinched...not even you." Her voice had returned somewhat to normal, the rasp still there, but it was now recognizable as Katsumi's. The voice that he'd heard from his bedside so many times, the voice he'd woken to nearly every morning since they'd graduate Shinigami Academy together. "All I could do was kill. Hollows couldn't see me either, but I could kill them. Only my zanpaku-to seemed to make it to this world. I don't know where I was..." She admitted then, sounding small and lost.

Ukitake leaned closer to her, brushing back her washed and combed hair. Unohana had taken care of Katsumi herself. She'd made sure she'd been bathed, changed, her hair flawless, cuts tended, warmth brought back to her body. "You're safe now, just sleep, Katsumi."

"That's my line..." She murmured, struggling with a groan to sit up. Unohana was there in an instant, pushing pillows behind her and helping her up.

The woman had a naturally kind aura, making everyone at ease in her presence. "You are just as stubborn as Captain Juushiro." She smiled, making sure she was adjusted. She walked silently from the room once more, leaving behind a cup of tea and plate of food that no one had seen her put down.

"Katsumi..." Ukitake began, only to be cut off by Shunsui.

"Nanao? My sweet Nanao, is that you?" His voice raised slightly, if possible his ear perking up as well. "Coming my dear, sweet Nanao!" He said, gliding swiftly from the room, door sliding closed behind him.

With a soft shake of his head, Ukitake smiled, looking down at Katsumi once more. His eyes softened, the black finding emotion that they'd been lacking for years. "I missed you." He said simply.

Katsumi just smiled, her lips once more rosy, their color returned. "I never left you. Every minute you spent in bed, I was there beside you." She said softly, voice strained with emotion, holding back tears. "I wanted to hold you so badly when you mourned for Kaien. I tried..." She said, brows furrowing.

"You'll make yourself sick.." He said quickly, wanting her to stop more for his own reasons then her health. It wasn't proper for a Captain of the thirteen squads to tear up. "I knew you were there. I never stopped thinking about you. You don't need to say anything, Onishi Katsumi...I'm glad you're back. Now you rest and I'll stay by your side"


	2. The World Passes By

Shunsui raised a lazy brow at the clamor in the next room. Through the rice paper wall, he could see the dim, flickering shadow of someone in the next room, short in stature, longer hair. "Good evening, Katsumi!" He greeted cheerfully, raising the rim of his straw hat further. With a frustrated growl and a ripping of paper, the apple he'd intended to eat for lunch came flying at him with dizzying accuracy. He caught it, of course, what sort of Captain would he be if he hadn't?

"Shut -UP- Shunsui!" Her voice held an unusual amount of venom, even for Katsumi during her angry moments. With an exaggerated sigh, he got up off the floor and arranged his floral haori, sliding open the ruined door. With two fingers, he raised one corner of the paper, attempted half heartedly to return it to it's place, then let it flutter down once more. How many times had Nanao done the same thing? Man, all these women were alike.

Katsumi stood over the window, one arm bent and propping herself up above her head. Her blue eyes, usually kind and gentle flashed with anger now, so much so that one could imagine smoldering ashes in the ink black irises. In a cliché pose, the sun only struck half her face, leaving her eyes in darkness, even more shaded by the position of her arm. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned." She could be a poster child for that phrase.

"Jeez, what's got you all riled up?" He asked, idly twirling a flower between his fingers.

"Yamamoto!" She exclaimed, throwing up her free hand, as if that explained everything.

"And..." Shunsui prompted gently when he realized she wasn't going to offer any further explanation. He dropped the delicate petals one by one onto the floor that Nanao had just swept.

"And, he's forbidden me to continue my relationship with Ukitake!" With another growl of frustration, she turned to face him, throwing up both hands. "I can't just stop! It isn't that easy!"

"Mmm, I see.." He murmured, dropping the stem to rub his stubbled chin. "So that's why you came here after training, and not to see Juushiro."

"Yamamoto says that his illness is holding me back and that my coddling is making him weak! Crazy old coot wouldn't know love if it were a lobster that had attached itself to his pinky toe!" With an exasperated sigh, she turned toward the window again.

"Now, now. He is just looking at it from a teacher's view. I can see how he'd come to that conclusion..." He mused, almost to himself.

Whirling back to face him, her eyes really did burn with anger now, her cheeks flushed. "You're against us too? Why didn't you just say so?!" She fairly screeched.

He held up his hands defensively and backed off a step. "Hey, I didn't say that. I'm all for you two, really. I'm just saying that I understand where Yamamoto might be coming from, that's all. If you'd calm down and think about it rationally, you would too." He pointed out. Shunsui didn't make a very convincing voice of reason.

Katsumi woke with a gasp, running her hand through her hair. What an odd dream to have. That had never happened. Shaking her head, she stood up, resting one hand against a tree to balance herself. Taking up her Zanpaku-to, she strapped it to her waist and headed east. The forest had been her home for the last year or so. It was just to hard to be around people who couldn't see, feel or hear her. Among the trees she could be as alone as she felt without the constant reminder of all that she'd lost. Of everyone that she'd lost.

She'd been stuck in this...whatever, for nearly a decade now. Try as she might to figure out her Bankai, she was still falling short. She had gotten somewhere, at least. She'd figured out that she was stuck in a limbo of sorts, lacking any better way to describe it. She could see the Shinigami, but they couldn't see her. She could see Hollows, but they couldn't see her. It was the same in the living world. Katsumi could do nothing but observe. Well, observe and destroy.

She had no problem dispatching Hollows. That was probably the only thing that kept her sane, being able to focus her frustration on something productive. Hence, why she was out in the middle of nowhere squared, looking for Hollows. Of course, if she chose she could probably do the same to Shinigami, however, she didn't wish to test that particular theory out on a live subject. That probably wouldn't be appreciated when she returned.

At first, she'd been surprised at the sheer power of her Bankai. Once mastered, if ever mastered, she would be invincible. No one could see her, no one could stop her attacks, but they would come and they would wound. Then, she'd discovered the downfall of her Bankai when attacking a Hollow much to powerful for her to take on herself. Nothing makes one learn something faster than learning it the hard way and nothing brings one down from a power high faster than realizing that a cocky nature might just result in death. Once her victim was attacked, they were allowed momentary flashes of her presence which increased in length and frequency the closer to death the target came. Shunpo, paired with the fraction of a second glimpses of her only teased all but the best opponents. Her encounters were usually over before the victim even knew they were being attacked.

She'd learned to deal with that little problem by landing killing blows the first try, avoiding the cat and mouse games. What truly confused Katsumi was that her Bankai never seemed to reach it's limit and end. Would she be stuck here for her entire existence? Never to feel human warmth, enjoy a conversation, be seen, everything one takes for granted. It was unbearable!

Katsumi been so preoccupied in her own self-pity she hadn't noticed the Hollow that was nearly on top of her. The brush mere yards ahead of her swayed and split, leaves fluttering to the ground. With a powerful surge of her legs, she jumped into the nearest tree, springing up and off ground level from branch to branch. From her higher vantage point she could see the lumbering thing below her. Her hand moved to the hilt of her Zanpaku-to as she watched it, gripping so tightly her knuckles turned white.

It was fairly small as far as Hollows went, no larger than an average man. It walked on three legs that rotated more than took steps, a large bulbous body with a hole in the center sat atop the tripod with a long, skinny, insect like head. The long snout was filled with sharp teeth, the Hollow mask lined with rivets and grooves that swept back from the nose.

"Tasugare, I need you." She murmured under her breath. Slipping the blade from the sheath, her eyes never left the Hollow. Her Zanpaku-to hadn't changed since she'd arrived, constantly in Bankai state and appearance. The slim blade shimmered like so much smoke and dust, swirling and spinning. Her father, she remembered from her childhood, had smoked a pipe and she loved the little things he would do, smoke circles, twirling braids. Her Zanpaku-to now reminded her of those lazy days with him. Perhaps not the most magnificent of Bankai states, especially compared to others, but she found it pleasing.

Stepping off the branch rather than jumping down, she fell down to ground level, her elaborate braid flying back behind her. She landed hard, moving to one knee to balance out the force of impact. The Hollow plodded past her, unaware of her presence. It soon would be though, the Shinigami walking along side it took in every movement, assessing any visible advantages it might have. Death walked beside it and it was no more away of that then it might have been a bug along it's path.

The pain! The Hollow stumbled and came crashing down to the earth, it's foremost leg now gone. The flash, the pain, so sudden it couldn't comprehend what was happening. Tastes like...Shinigami...but not in sight. Letting out a howl, it struggled to stand. A menacing face, Shinigami, appeared before it's sight, eyes dark and lifeless, without emotion. Then, all went dark in the freedom of death.

Resheathing Tasugare, she stood up to her full height and pushed her braid over her shoulder. She felt slightly guilty, admitting to herself that it probably was cruel to play with a creature, Hollow or not, like she had. With a shake of her head she started off again. It was done anyway, nothing she could do about it. Or the Shinigami running toward her. There were three, lower ranks all of them, rushing past her without even a hint of breeze to brush against her cheek. They mulled about the spot where she'd dispatched the Hollow, looking rather confused. They would look about for the next few hours before realizing it was gone, they always did.

Katsumi continued that existence for so long, that after a couple of centuries, she gave up counting the days, the months, the years that only trudged by. For a while she'd returned to Seireitei to be near the people she loved and missed. Out of respect for Kaien, she'd attended his funeral, and his wife's, grieved for him, mourned with Ukitake. She'd stayed with him through his bout of sickness that had followed, sitting beside his bed, at the foot of it, standing by the door. Ever guarding him, though, he would never know.

Words like "when" and "what-if"s that only dashed her hopes had been stricken from her mind long ago. She only returned when Ukitake fell ill, when a new captain or vice as appointed, when a Shinigami died. A veritable hermit, she hadn't heard her own voice in years with the exception of a few murmurings to Tasugare. Every few years when her hair grew longer than she could manage she would lop it all off with her Zanpaku-to, the only tool she retained possession of. He uniform had taken it's own hits, but was holding up well. Even though no one seemed to be able to see her, the idea of walking around nude wasn't one her mind could accept.

On days when she was feeling truly morbid she would visit her own grave. It was more a small memorial set up in her honor. Shunsui had spent years trying to convince Ukitake to let her go and put it up. She couldn't blame him, instead she thanked him. It was better that he move on despite how painful it was for Katsumi to watch. How many more decades would it be before her picture left his room, before her clothes were taken away? She'd given up the hope that she would return before that day came.

This day in particular she'd taken refuge at the training grounds. She'd had a run in with a particularly nasty Hollow who might have ended all of her suffering if the other Shinigami patrolling the area hadn't cut in and helped her out. They were abandoned so very early in the morning, allowing her to sit in peace and meditate. She hadn't bothered to wash off the dried blood on her face, to stitch the rips in her clothes. Her hair hadn't seen a brush in far too long.

Today was the day, Katsumi had determined. She would find a way out of this, or die trying. She could feel her sanity slipping. Not like she'd thought so many times in the past, it really was failing her this time. Rather than risking the lives of Shinigami, those she'd protected so fiercely without their knowing, she would do the honorable thing and take her own life. With a deep breath, she centered herself. She'd also decided that today was the day she would master her Bankai fully. One last accomplishment before the end. As a testament to her determination, she'd already said goodbye to Ukitake, her eyes still red with the tears she'd shed.

Tasugare was laid out before her, the incorporeal blade catching the fading moonlight like child's glitter. Running one hand over the blunt edge the smoke followed her finger, swirled around it as if it had gone through, rather than run over. Finally, she rested her hands on her knees, closing her eyes. The flashes of memory she called up played across her minds eye one by one with almost indistinguishable speed. All of the Hollows she'd killed, the reasons she was going back, all she'd learned of her Zanpaku-to in the last three hundred and fifty eight years. Like a puzzle she put them together, a mental collage of all of her knowledge.

Still, nothing happened. With a feral cry of rage, she stood and threw the sheath of her Zanpaku-to as far as she could. Looking down at the blade, it shimmered and spun as if nothing had changed. She was stuck here. Bending, she picked up Tasugare and once again forced herself to calm. Despite the appearance of the blade, the tip felt real enough as it rested between her breasts and at the fault line of her ribs. Not that it mattered, she'd kept it sharp enough to cut through bone.

"Ukitake Juushiro....you were my last thought." Her long lashes flew down, blue eyes covered and in her mind, never to be opened again. The muscles in her arms flexed and the blade slid easily through her body. A soft gasp was the only sound she made, the thought that death wasn't so painful flashing through her mind. Slipping to her knees, she was surprised at how calm she'd remained. This was the right thing, Katsumi kept telling herself as she began to grow dizzy.

With a gasp of surprise, her eyes flew open. Her eyes were fully blue now, glowing in a literal sense, a similar light streaking from around Tasugare. The Zanpaku-to slid quickly from her body and clattered to the ground before her, forgotten. The light grew, streaming toward the heavens in a blazing column. Katsumi's world however, went black.

"That's all I remember." Onishi Katsumi sat before Yamamoto, head lowered. Her newly cut hair, clean and combed once more, fell over her eyes. Ukitake and Shunsui were in the room as well, the latter leaning against the wall, appearing for all he was worth that not a word of her day long story had gotten to him. He might as well have been snoring. Ukitake, however had been attentive through the whole tale, standing next to his friend, arms crossed and face downcast. Even now he didn't look up.

"Thank you, Vice Onishi." Despite the fact that her position had been given away long ago, everyone insisted on continuing the use of her former title. "That is quite a story." The elderly man stood, resting his hands on his desk, regarding the small form of the woman sitting in front of him. "Are you well enough to continue your training? With work, your Bankai could be perfected as well as mastered. We have great need of you now as there are squads missing their captains." Katsumi's brows furrowed and she looked at the Commander in awe. He was asking her to go back to that place?!

Finally, Shunsui stood straight, raising the rim of his hat. "With all due respect, Yamamoto. Given what she had to do to get back, what she went through before that, do you think it's a good idea to force her to go back?" Shunsui, you're a great guy when you want to be, Katsumi thought, thanking him silently. "It's obvious she's mastered it, or she wouldn't be here. She's been gone over a quarter of a millennium." he pointed out gently, one shaggy brow raised.

Ukitake nodded. "I have to agree, Yamamoto. When she's ready, she'll continue." He said, speaking the last while looking down at her. For a moment, the old man looked as if he might grow angry. He was, however, open to reason. With a brisk nod, he sat down, old bones creaking.

"You're both right. I respect the opinions of my Captains. Vice Onishi, if you wish, you can assume command of one of the squads missing a Captain. Since you have indeed mastered Bankai, it is open to you. Due to your unusual circumstances, no further testing to prove such will be needed. You're dismissed."

The two captains allowed her to leave first, walking a step or two behind her. Ukitake's voice came from behind her, gentle as always. "Katsumi.." Her steps faltered and she closed her eyes, coming to a stop. Even though she'd heard her name often in the last few days, it was always welcome, especially from Juushiro. "Are you ready for that? To become captain?"

Turning to face the two friends, she nodded. "Once I regain my strength, I'll be ready. I've been ready for four hundred years. I have a lot to catch up on and the sooner life returns to normal, the better." Nodding, Ukitake led her back to the squad four headquarters. Unohana insisted on keeping her at least a week longer. Dying, after all, could put quite a strain on someone.

Matching flowers for Kaien and his wife, laid down by loving hands, shifted in the summer wind. Another laid before a third head stone atop the hill. Onishi Katsumi. The woman herself sat before it. Her waist length hair had been pulled back into an elaborate braid, so heavy that the wind didn't shift it. Her cream colored kimono kept her cool enough, though soon the temperature would go down with the sun.

At the sound of soft footsteps approaching, she leaned back and turned slightly. A warm smile came to her lips, blue eyes once again filled with the sparkle of life. Being in rank-limbo, she didn't rise to bow, figuring they would understand.

"Hitsugya Toushiro." She greeted.

The boy nodded, his face far to serious for his years. "Onishi Katsumi. I was told I could find you here. I pray I'm not intruding." He asked, stark white brows raised. His captains haori rustled slightly in the breeze, the tips of his hair fluttering as well.

"Not at all. Please, join me." She offered, scooting a bit despite the fact that they had the whole hill to themselves.

"I wanted to meet you." He said, tourmaline eyes focused on her face, studying her intently. "You were a legend when I was training...you still are. I used to argue with classmates about the legend of the forest Shinigami. It was either you or Kaien. Killing Hollows under our noses, never seen but your handiwork everywhere." There was admiration in his voice but it was hard to pick out. This child was very good at masking what he felt. So much responsibility for one so young. He bore it well.

"In my more sane moments, I'd watched your career with great interest. The youngest captain in history, strong enough to rival those of equal rank who have been studying for centuries longer than yourself. You are quite the legend yourself, Hitsugya." She returned.

"Have you decided what squad you would like to command?" He asked curiously, apparently eager to turn the topic of conversation away from himself.

Katsumi gave another smile and nodded. "I've been asked to command squad five. Momo is still having a hard time dealing with the loss of Aizen. Yamamoto hopes that having a female captain will ease her out of it. I can only hope he's right."

"As do I." He agreed solemnly. He stood abruptly and bowed. She watched in slight surprise. He really was an amazing child. "We are all glad to have you back, Captain Onishi Katsumi." With that said, the turned and walked away. Watching with a smile, Katsumi leaned back on her hands. "It's good to be back." She murmured to herself.

Finally she stood as well. By tomorrow this monument would be gone. Ukitake would be waiting for her and she didn't want to keep him. They had the chance to fall in love all over again and she was going to take full advantage of that. She no longer had to watch the world pass her by.


End file.
